r 


A  CALIFORNIA  TALE, 


SAN  JOSE: 
MERCURY  STEAM  PRINT. 

1882. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1882,  by 

MARCUS  A.   STEWART, 
In   the   office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


TO  ALL  WHO  LOVE  OtfB 

GOLDEN  LAND, 

THIS    LITTLE    VOLUME    IS 

KESPECTFULLY    DEDICATED 

BY    THE    AUTHOB. 


134835 


The  following  poem  is  grounded  on  circumstances  familiar  to 
almost  every  reader.  Many  have  heard  of  JOAQUIN  MARIETTA,  his 
depredations,  the  rewards  offered  fur  him,  and  his  supposed  capture 
by  CAPT.  HARRY  LOVE  and  party  ;  and  many  have  seen  the  head  on 
exhibition  at  Jordan's  Museum.  Whether  it  is  el  cabeaa  de  Joaq-uin 
or  not,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say. 

The  other  characters,  with  the  exception  of  the  heroine,  are  im 
aginary.  Something  similar  to  her  story  went  the  rounds  of  the 
press  a  few  years  ago,  under  the  title  of  "  Charley  Parkhurst." 

The  truth  of  this  tale,  in  any  particular,  is  not  vouched  for,  the 
only  endeavor  having  been  to  weave  the  outlines  ot  the  stories  con 
cerning  the  two  mentioned  characters  into  a  single  narrative,  which 
might  possibly  afford  the  reader  some  amusement. 

That  it  may,  without  provoking  too  much  criticism,  is  the  hope  of 

THE  AUTHOK. 


AIL  !  El  Dorado,  ever  dressed 
In  Nature's  grandest,  fairest,  best; 
Unrivaled  work  of  Father  Time, 
Who  blent  the  flowers  of  every  clime 
To  form  thy  wreath,  and  bid  thee  rise, 
Earth's  last  and  loveliest  paradise. 

Of  all  the  travelers  who  explore 
Our  golden  land  from  hill  to  shore, 
But  few  remark,  tho'  many  roam 
In  sight  of  it,  a  mountain  dome 
Which  rises  happily  between 
Three  valleys,  robed  in  gold  and  green. 
Tho'  thousands  trace  those  vales  below, 
Their  wildest  dreams  can  ne'er  bestow 
One  glimmer  of  the  scenes  that  rise 
To  thrill  the  hearts  and  bless  the  eyes 
Of  all  who  scale  in  beauty's  quest, 
Loma  Prieta's  hoary  crest. 
And  tho'  the  tourist  oft'  laments 
The  winding  path  and  steep  ascents, 


BO  SIT  A   I 

He  there  enjoys  as  pure  a  breeze 
As  ever  blessed  a  traveler's  ease, 
And  basks  beneath  as  bright  a  ray 
As  ever  charmed  the  dews  away; 
And  condescending  to  bestow 
One  glance  upon  the  scenes  below, 
He  yields  to  Nature's  witching  spell, 
Believes  his  toil  repaid  full  well, 
And  calls  that  summit  round  and  bare 
A  captured  "  castle  in  the  air." 

Sweet  memory,  with  gentle  power, 

Brings  back  to  us  one  happy  hour 

'Of  all  our  thoughtless  youthful  days. 

Again  from  Lorna's  crest  we  gaze, 

And  once  again  beneath  our  eyes 

The  vale  of  Santa  Clara  lies, 

A  maze  of  forests,  fields  and  streams, 

So  softly  beautiful  it  seems, 

The  famed  Elysium  of  the  West; 

'Tis  there  the  garden  cities  rest, 

Like  rural  sisters,  face  to  face, 

Within  the  arborous  embrace 

Of  that  renowned  and  lovely  way, 

The  Alarneda,  rich  to-day 

In  centuries  of  leaf  and  bloom. 

There  Flora  waves  her  fairest  plume, 

And  every  turret,  dome  and  tower 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE. 

Arises  from  a  leafy  bower, 

And  every  cottage  smiles  beneath 

Its  dooryard  trees  and  rustling  wreath 

Of  tangled  vines,  and  there  the  green 

Of  lawns  and  meadows  may  be  seen, 

In  variegated  shadows  wove 

From  stream  to  stream  and  grove  to  grove. 

Mount  Hamilton  stands  guard  above 

This  vale  of  plenty,  peace  and  love; 

Diablo  northward  rises  bleak; 

To  southward  looms  Pacheco  Peak, 

And  ranged  between,  a  thousand  hills 

Enrobed  in  forests,  gemmed  with  rills, 

Bespangled  with  the  fairest  hues 

Of  nature,  gradually  lose 

Their  rounded  shapes,  as  far  and  high 

They  lift  their  faces  toward  the  sky. 

Ah,  happy  valley,  thou  art  dear 

To  many  a  hardy  pioneer, 

Whose  heart,  once  bounding  with  delight, 

Still  pulses  feebly  at  thy  sight; 

Forgetting  in  thy  bright  array 

To  wail  its  own  declining  day; 

And  dearer,  lovelier  thou  art 

To  those  who  ne'er  were  forced  to  part 

With  other  ties  and  scenes,  to  roam 

And  find  in  thee  a  second  home. 


ROSITA  I 

And  tliou  art  rich  in  pretty  themes 
For  sages'  arts  or  poets'  dreams; 
For  here  of  yore  the  Spanish  priest 
His  treasures  and  his  power  increased, 
In  expectation  of  a  day 
Devoted  to  religious  sway; 
And  here  beneath  the  evening  star 
The  herdsman  tuned  the  sweet  guitar, 
And  waking  to  the  serenade 
The  dusky  Mexicano  maid 
Came  dancing  down  the  path  to  greet 
The  lover  sighing  at  her  feet. 
And  many  a  balmy  summer  night 
The  low  adobes  glimmered  bright 
With  pendant  torches,  and  the  sound 
Of  mirth  and  music  floated  round, 
As  young  and  aged  tripped  the  gay 
Fandango  step  till  break  of  day. 

But  why  should  fancy  linger  here  ? 
Those  scenes  are  lost  in  many  a  year. 
Those  memories  now  are  vague  and  strange, 
And  only  serve  to  mark  the  change 
Achieved  by  time;  but  southward  look 
O'er  ridge  and  canyon,  grove  and  brook, 
O'er  rolling  hills  and  meadows  brown, 
Upon  two  valleys  sloping  down 
In  hazy  grandeur  to  the  sea 


A    CAUFOBNlA    TALE. 

That  rolls  beyond  them,  boundless;  free, 
And  brightly  glimmering  in  the  beams 
Of  Phoebus,  whose  deep  luster  seems 
To  cast  a  tint  of  gladness  o'er 
The  beauteous  scenes  that  lie  before. 
Behold  the  lakes  that  gleam  afar, 
Each  as  palely  as  a  star; 
The  rivers  in  their  winding  beds 
Glistening  like  silver  threads, 
The  summits  of  the  blue  divide, 
And  ranging  far  on  either  side 
The  purple  hills,  where  forests  verge 
Like  armies  downward  to  the  surge. 
Oh,  where  does  Nature  yet  bestow 
A  lovelier  ,scene  than  this  below — 
The  beauteous  vale  of  Pajaro? 
And  yonder  broad  Salinas  plain, 
Extending  downward  to  the  main  ;• 
Upon  the  left  old  Monterey, 
The  faded  mistress  of  the  bay, 
Looks  out  upon  the  rolling  wave 
Like  Rip  Van  Winkle  from  his  cave, 
A  score  of  years  behind  the  day; 
And  far  across  the  gleaming  way 
Of  crested  waves  that  heave  and  toss, 
The  city  of  the  Holy  Cross 
Flings  back  at  her  a  modern  smile 
to  say,  "  Behold  my  style 


ROSITA  : 

In  wondrous  contrast  to  your  own* 

And  mark,  my  queen,  bow  old  you've  grown 

Since  first  reclined  011  this  fair  shore 

You  were  lulled  to  sleep  by  ocean's  roar," 

Alas,  my  genius  seems  too  cold, 

My  style  too  tame  to  well  express 
What  tourists  feel  when  they  behold 

These  scenes  in  all  their  loveliness; 
E'en  as  an  artist's  pictured  bloom 
Must  lack  the  native  flower's  perfume, 
So  my  poor  sketch  each  joy  denies 
That  Nature  clothes  in  loveliest  guise. 
But  you  who  care  to  feel  a  glow 
Of  health  and  pure  delight,  forego 
The  cares  of  life  for  one  brief  day, 
Pursue  the  wild  and  devious  way 
To  Loma?s  height  and  you  will  find 

A  thousand  beauties  yet  unsung, 
The  least  of  which  may  oft  remind 

How  weakly  my  poor  harp  was  strung. 
And  when  your  raptured  eyes  survey 
The  lovely  landscape  of  my  lay, 
Oh,  may  some  half  forgotten  tale 
Fling  newer  charms  o'er  hill  and  dale, 
'Till  Fancy,  rising  as  your  guide, 
Puts  intervening  years  aside, 
And  hand  in  hand  with  her  you  gaze      v 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  11 

On  these  fair  scenes  in  other  days, 
As  I  have  done,  then  not  amiss 
Perchance  may  come  a  dream  like  this: 


It  is  the  closing  hour  of  day, 
And  Sol,  resplendent  o'er  -the  bay, 
Seems  bending  nearer  to  admire 
His  wave-reflected  shape  of  fire; 
And  flashing  still  an  ardent  glance 
Across  the  glittering  blue  expanse, 
He  folds  himself  in  fleecy  shroud 
Of  ocean  mist  and  gathering  cloud, 
And  palely  beaming  sinks  to  sleep 
Beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  deep; 
While  far  within  the  western  blue 
A  glorious  solar  retinue 
Appears  to  slowly  move  and  change 
Its  shapes  fantastic,  rich  and  strange, 
Still  deeper,  darker,  denser  growing, 
'Till  silvery  twilight  inward  flowing, 
Extends  her  veil  and  twinkles  far 
Across  the  wave  the  evening  star. 
And  now  appears  on  Loma's  hight 
A  red  unwavering  gleam  of  light, 
So  small  that  from  the  vales  afar 
It  might  be  deemed  a  rival  star; 
Yet  many  a  swarthy  half-breed  knows 


12  KOSITA  : 

Its  secret  import  as  it  glows; 

And  many  a  villain  nods  his  head, 

And  many  a  villainous  glance  is  read 

By  answering  eyes,  and  many  a  steed 

Is  from  the  stake  or  hobble  freed 

To  bear  its  master  through  the  night 

In  swift  response  to  yonder  light, — 

The  mute  command,  the  signal  fire, 

Expressing  well  Joaquin's  desire. 

Joaquin,  the  far-famed  robber  chief, 

Whose  captured  head  would  bring  relief 

To  many  a  heart,  whose  blood-stained  brand 

Still  flashes  terror  o'er  the  land,— 

Whose  very  name  has  grown  to  be 

A  source  of  fear  while  he  is  free. 

The  first  and  fiercest  in  the  fray, 

The  last  to  cause  or  brook  delay, 

The  keenest  still  to  plan  or  foil, 

Yet  sharing  equally  the  spoil 

So  often  seized  by  him  alone, 

By  every  follower  is  he  known 

As  captain  worthy  to  command 

The  wildest  desperado  band 

That  ever  trod  our  golden  land. 

This  eve,  as  daylight's  latest  glow, 

Ascending  from  the  vales  below, 

Lit  up  with  ruddy,  lingering  ray, 

The  mountain  summit,  rough  and  gray, 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE. 

I  saw  him,  with  accustomed  speed, 

Equip  and  mount  his  restless  steed, 

Wave  once  his  scarf  in  fond  adieu, 

To  answering  friends,  and  clash  from  view 

Along  the  secret  winding  trail 

That  leads  him  downward  to  the  vale, 

And  ere  an  hour  he  meets  his  crew 

In  some  far  distant  rendezvous; 

But  tho'  all  reckless  he  may  roam 

From  Loma's  breast,  his  safest  home. 

The  place  is  never  desolate, 

For  there  uneasy  hearts  await 

And  pray  his  speedy  safe  return ; 

And  there  at  night  the  signals  burn, 

O'erlooked  by  friends  as  true  and  tried 

As  e'en  the  bravest  by  his  side. 

The  watch-fire  bright  on  Loma's  height 

Sends  sparks  in  myriads  upward  wheeling, 
Its  ruddy  light  dispelling  night 

In  wide  and  circled  space  revealing 
The  scattered  clumps  of  chaparral 
That  dot  the  summit's  distant  swell; 
The  soil  bestrewed  with  boulders  round, 
A  hobbled  steed,  a  restless  hound, 
And  near  the  fire  so  brightly  shining, 
Two  ladies  fair  on  robes  reclining; 
Their  forms  attired  in  that  disguise 


14  EOSITA  : 

Which  hides  all  features  save  the  eyes; 

But  theirs,  tho'  peering  from  their  shawls, 

Are  brighter  than  the  light  that  falls 

Upon  their  depths  from  yonder  blaze 

To  be  returned  in  lovelier  rays, 

And  rival  e'en  the  jewels  bright 

That  gleam  on  hands  so  small  and  white. 

Each  lady's  air  of  fearless  grace 

Appears  unnatural  in  a  place 

So  wild  and  lone,  for  neither  seerns 

To  hear  the  night-hawk's  thrilling  screams- 

The  deep  "tu  who"  of  forest  owls, 

The  far  coyote's  mournful  howls, 

Or  e'en  that  worst  of  dismal  sounds, 

The  panther's  cry,  which  offc  resounds 

Upon  the  breeze.     One  looks  afar, 

Nor  deigns  to  heed  the  light  guitar 

That  slips  low  murmuring -to  her  feet; 

The  other  shapes  a  cigarette, 

And  rising  with  it  'twixt  her  lips 

Procures  a  brand,  and  deftly  tips 

Its  end  with  fire,  the  while  she  breathes 

Upon  the  air  ascending  wreathes 

Of  scented  smoke;  as  back  she  hies 

Her  lovely  mate  upstarting  cries: 

"  Kosita,  see  on  Gabilan 
The  first  unfoldrnent  of  our  plan; 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  15 

And  there  the  sister  star  we  seek 
Is  glimmering  on  Pacheco  Peak; 
Oh,  that  their  radiance  could  impart 
One  ray  of  comfort  to  my  heart, — 
One  lingering  hope  that  fate  will  bless 
This  venturous  stroke  with  that  success 
Which  we  have  merited  so  well. 
For,  oh,  the  past  has  been  a  hell 
Of  which  the  lightest  memories  seem 
Like  horrid  phantoms  of  a  dream — 
Too  vivid  in  its  horrors  e'er 
To  be  forgotten.     Yet  I  dare 
Not  hope  again,  for  time  at  last 
May  shape  the  future  like  the  past." 


'  Cheer  up,  Marie,  this  wakened  grief 
O'er  troubles  past  is  no  relief, 
Nor  can  despair  which  oft  fulfills 
Avert  anticipated  ills. 
Methinks  a  fortnight  in  its  night- 
Will  change  thy  fear  to  calm  delight, 
Thy  woe  to  weal,  our  lonely  cave 
For  happy  homes  beyond  the  wave, 
Where  they  to  whom  our  hearts  belong 
May  soon  forget  the  robber's  song 
In  happier  themes,  and  cease  to  rove 
From  wives  that  only  live  to  love." 


f  fi  KOSITA  : 

"Ah,  dear  Rosita,  chide  me  not 
For  griefs  that  cannot  be  forgot; 
Nor  think  Joaquin's  unhappy  wife 
Would  cease  to  trim  the  taper  life ; 
Although  with  hope  'tis  waxing  dim, 
'Twill  blaze  again  at  thought  of  him; 
And  tho*  this  dread  has  thinned  my  cheek, 
Unstrung  my  nerves  and  made  me  weak, 
The  dark  forebodings  of  my  soul 
Are  ne'er  so  far  beyond  control 
That  one  sweet  word  from  him  can  fail 
To  blot  the  fears  that  most  prevail." 


'•  Forget  those  fears;  let  hope  restore 
Thee  to  thy  happy  self  once  more; 
Take  up  again  thy  loved  guitar 
As  oft  beneath  a  happier  star, 
Attune  with  joy  its  loosened  string, 
And  as  our  mingled  voices  ring 
To  answering  echoes,  heaven  above 
Will  grant  success  to  those  we  love; 
And  these  lone  hours  will  flit  away 
With  all  our  griefs  to  brighter  day." 
This  said,  advancing  to  the  fire, 
Eosita  heaps  the  faggots  higher, 
While  fair  Marie  upon  her  couch 
Lifts  her  guitar,  and  with  a  touch 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  17 

Adjusting  quick  the  tuneful  strings, 
Strikes  sweet  accompaniment  and  sings: 

No  more-,  my  harp,  shall  notes  of  woe 

With  thy  pure  tones  be  interwove; 
My  heart  and  hand  must  thee  forego, 

Or  wake  thy  strings  to  joy  and  love; 
For  touched  with  sorrow  hearts  and  strings 

Are  better  mute,  that  none  may  share; 
While  love  or  joy  in  either  springs 

To  music  sweet  beyond  compare. 

As  wandering  oft  in  memory's  vale 

My  heart  seems  overcharged  with  grief, 
I  fly  to  thee  and  cannot  fail 

To  find  in  music  quick  relief. 
A  theme  of  love  or  joyful  strain 

He-echoes  softly  in  my  breast; 
'Till  thrilled  with  pleasure  once  again 

My  heart  forgets  its  deep  unrest. 

And,  gentle  harp,  as  danger  lowers 

O'er  absent  loved  ones  .as  they  roam, 
Thy  melody  shall  wing  the  hours 

And  bid  those  wanderers  welcome  Lome. 
A  song  of  gladness  then  shall  ring, 

And  as  the  hills  and  dales  renew 
The  joyful  numbers,  we  will  fling 

To  woe  and  grief  a  last  adieu. 

As  dies  the  strain  upon  the  breeze, 
The  songstress  quits  her  couch  of  ease, 


18  ROSITA  : 

And  moving  full  into  the  red 

And  glimmering  firelight  bares  her  head, 

And  stands  revealed  in  form  and  face, 

A  beauteous  type  of  all  her  race. 

Although  the  constant  hand  of  care 

Has  touched  her  cheeks,  once  round  and  fair. 

They  still  are  lovely  and  as  pale 

As  sister  lilies  of  the  vale; 

And  all  unlike  some  softer  dame's, 

Which  e'en  the  lightest  breath  inflames, 

With  warmer  tints  are  never  dyed, 

Tho'  passion  swell  a  mighty  tide, 

But  oft  reveal  a  deeper  lack 

Of  life-like  hue.     Her  eyes  as  black 

As  ravens'  wings,  so  softly  shine 

Beneath  the  eyebrows'  penciled  line, 

That  none  could  deem  her  glance  more  bright 

Were  each  dark  orb  a  "mount  of  light," 

As  precious  and  serenely  pure 

As  that  famed  jewel  Kohinoor. 

The  life  that  thrills  in  every  vein 

Has  touched  her  lips  with  rosy  stain; 

And  oft  those  lips  disclose  beneath 

Their  parting  curves  a  glimpse  of  teeth 

As  true  and  white  as  strings  of  pearls; 

And  save  the  dark  and  clustering  curls 

By  mountain  breezes  thus  displaced, 

Her  wavy  hair  is  backward  laid, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  19 

And  drawn  behind  in  massive  braid 

That  reaches  far  below  her  waist; 

And  robed  in  rich  tho'  simple  dress 

Which  well  displays  her  comeliness, 

She  seems  of  woman's  average  height; 

And  as  she  walks  her  step  is  light, 

Yet  firm,  and  all  her  movements  free; 

And  this  is  Joaquin's  wife,  Marie. 

In  features,  form  and  native  grace, 

Rosita  takes  no  second  place; 

For  well. proportioned,  tall  and  straight, 

And  somewhat  larger  than  her  mate, 

She  is  what  many  a  man  desires, 

A  woman  whom  the  world  admires. 

Her  eyes,  although  a  violet  blue, 

Appear  at  times  of  deeper  hue, 

xVnd  meet  your  own  as  if  they  caught 

In  swiftest  glance  your  inmost  thought, 

And  yet  a  second  glance  will  win 

In  spite  of  you.      With  dimpled  chin, 

Well  rounded  cheeks,  complexion  fair, 

Small  mouth,  white  teeth,  and  auburn  hair 

Which  hangs  in  ringlets  ail  about 

Her  handsome  face,  she  is  no  doubt 

The  happiest  tempered  of  the  two; 

And  yet  of  all  the  robber  crew 

Who  mark  her  beauty  and  admire, 

Not  one  would  dare  provoke  her  ire, 


20  ROSITA  : 

And  e'en  the  roughest  of  the  band 
Would  kneel  or  fight  at  her  command. 
Although  her  every  glance  reveals 
The  scorn  and  deep  contempt  she  feels 
For  him  and  all  his  mates,  save  one, 
And  he  her  reckless  heart  has  won. 
E'en  now  her  fancies  idly  rove 
With  him  in  dreams  of  blissful  love, 
All  undisturbed  till  fair  Marie 
Breaks  in  upon  her  reverie : 

"  Rosita,  though  a  stranger  ear 
Might  deem  my  hopeful  words  sincere, 
Your  own  must  still  detect  the  pain 
That  echoes  in  my  happiest  strain; 
Your  loving  heart  must  feel  with  grief 
That  feigning  joy  is  no  relief, 
To  mine,  which  hopelessly  beats  on, 
Nor  comfort  finds  in  pleasures  gone."" 

"Tho5  hopeless  now,  thou  soon  shalt  learn 
That  vanished  pleasures  oft  return, 
Intensified  by  all  the  fears 
And  Bufferings  of  weary  years. 
Thy  husband  has  avenged  thy  wrongs, 
To  him  thy  loving  soul  belongs; 
With  him  still  striving  to  retrieve 
His  shattered  fortunes,,  thou  shouldst  heave 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE.  21 

No  broken  sighs,  let  fall  BO  tears 
O'er  by  gum?  ilis  or  vanished  years; 
But  live  and  hope,  tho'  black  despair 
Into  thy  very  eyes  should  stare." 
Then  turning-  quickly  from  Marie 
She  takiis  tho  harp  as  if  to  free 
Her  mind  of  thoughts  endured  too  long, 
And  this  the  burden  of  her  somj: 


Oh,  the  love  of  my  lover's  as  steady  and  true 

As  light  from  the  pole  star  above; 
And  contented  I  wander  this  happy  world  through 

And  deem  it  a  heaven  of  love. 
And  to  mariners  tossed  on  the  sea, 

You  star  is  no  deeper  delight 
Than  the  thought  of  his  love  to  me 

In  adversity's  gloomiest  night. 

Oh,  the  love  of  my  lover's  as  boundless  and  deep 

As  ocean's  blue  i.-u  hornless  wave; 
Every  joy  is  disclosed  in  its  passionate  sweep 

That  the  heart  of  a  maiden  could  crave. 
And  the  anthem  of  ocean  may  be 

A  joy  to  the  gay  summer  throng, 
But  the  voice  of  his  love  to  me 

Is 'a  sweeter,  more  rapturous  song. 

Oh,  the  love  of  my  lover's  as  needful  to  me 

As  sunlight  to  wild  growing  flowers; 
And  my  heart  in  his  presence  grows  happy  and  freo, 

And  swift  seems  the  flight  of  the  hours. 


22  ROSITA  r 

Like  a  flower  released  by  the  sun, 
From  the  chill  dews  which  over  it  hover, 

My  heart  from  its  sorrow  is  won 

When  I  bask  in  the  smile  of  my  lover. 

Ere  the  guitar's  harmonious  strings 
Have  ceased  their  fitful  murmurings, 
A  distant  whistle,  clear  and  shrill, 
Re-echoes  down  from  hill  to  hill, 
And  seems  to  die  in  murmurs  low 
Among  the  shadowy  groves  below. 
The  fair  ones  rise  with  sudden  bound 
And  flash  their  startled  eyes  around, 
As  once  again,  and  nearer  still, 
It  wakes  the  echoes  with  its  trill; 
But  ere  the  last  long  quaver  dies 
Along  the  breeze,  Kosita  cries: 
'"Tis  he,  'tis  he,"  and  to  her  lip 
Places  an  ivory  whistle's  tip, 
And  swells  a  note  as  long  and  clear 
As  that  wrhich  lately  met  her  ear; 
And  now  the  whistlers  seem  to  vie, 
And  sharp  and  quick  the  signals  fly, 
Till  all  the  hill-tops  seem  to  ring; 
The  night-hawk  answers  on  the  wing; 
The  hound  starts  up  with  muffled  bay; 
The  horse  returns  a  distant  neigh, 
And  feeding,  turns  a  listening  ear, 
For  clattering  hoofs  are  drawing  near. 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE. 

Alights  a  bold,  impetuous  guest, 
And  clasps  Rosita  to  his  breast, 
And  presses  on  her  lips  and  cheeks 
A  score  of  kisses  ere  he  speaks. 
She  neither  shrinks  from  that  embrace 
Nor  turns  aside  her  blushing  face, 
But  lifts  to  his  her  sparkling  eyes, 
Wherein  love's  truest  token  lies, 
And  heightens  all  the  moment's  bliss 
By  clasp  for  clasp  and  kiss  for  kiss. 
One  moment  thus  her  yielding  charms 
Are  clasped  within  her  lover's  arms; 
The  next  her  mistress  cries,  "Ramon, 
What  brings  you  here  so  late  alone? 
Joaquin?" — "  Is  safe,  and  far  from  here; 
He  bade  me  whisper  in  your  ear: 
'Fear  not  for  me,  but  straight  retire 
Within  the  cave,  'tis  my  desire; 
There  lie  concealed  'till  my  return, 
And  let  the  watch-fire  cease  to  burn, 
Ere  it  becomes  a  guiding  star 
To  foes  as  well  as  friends  afar; 
For  o'er  the  country  far  and  wide 
The  cursed  vigilantes  ride, 
To  gain  the  price  upon  my  head; 
Their  cry,  ' Joaquin  alive  or  dead'; 
And  as  they  vainly  search  for  me, 
My  love,  they  must  not  pounce  on  thee.' 


23 


24  ROSITA  : 

These  were  his  words,  they  charm  thine  ear; 

Farewell — too  long  I  tarry  here. 

Bosita,  quick,  for  I  must  fly; 

One  kiss — another — sweet  good  by." 

The  brands  that  lit  the  mountain  side 
Are  quenched  and  scattered  far  and  wi,de; 
And  Loma's  height,  where  lately  shone 
The  light  of  bjuuby,  rising  lone 
And  dark  agaiusb  bh-3  moonlit  skies, 
Betrays  nor  gleam  of  starry  eyes, 
Nor  graceful  form-i;  within  its  brj.isb 
Its  denizens  have  sunk  to  rest; 
And  grimly,  silently  it  stands 
Tne  sentinel  of  slewing  lauds. 


From  canyon-hidden  springs  and  rills, 

Within  the  bosom  of  the  hills, 

The  ever  sparkling  Uvas  roves, 

Adown  the  gulches,  through  the  groves; 

Or  winding  on  from  tangled  brakes 

Across  the  verdant  meadow  takes 

Its  shining  course,  till  wider  spread 

In  ripples  o'er  a  pebbly  bed; 

Its  waters  circle  in  their  raco 

Against  a  miglicy  boulders  base. 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  25 

Abruptly  rising  by  the  stream, 

That  rock  discloses  many  a  se.v.n, 

And  rounded  cleft  as  tivily  foriu-jd 

As  if  by  art  the  work  performed; 

And  oft  the  traveler  surveys 

Those  clefts  and  fi.vsurjs  in  a-n  izy, 

Nor  quite  believes  that  tiina  alone 

Has  carved  so  wonderful  a  stone. 

My  youthful  eyes  did  oft  explore 

This  lovely  spot  in.  d-.iy.-j  of  yore, 

And  mark  the  rugged  mountain  height; 

The  massive  rock  upon  the  right; 

The  grassy  slope  bstraath  my  f^r,; 

And  just  beyond  the  silvery  sheob 

Of  rippling1  water  shadowed  o'er 

By  scattered  clumps  of  sycamore, 

Arid  willows  that  like  maidens  seem 

To  dip  their  tresses  in  the  stream. 

But  in  the  days  of  dread  Joaquin 

No  little  school  house  could  1)3  seen; 

Nor  modest  church  across  the  way; 

No  country  urchins  at  their  play, 

With  shouts  and  laughter  thrilled  the  ear, 

But  oft  the  traveler  paused  to  hear 

The  distant  sound  of  lowing  herds, 

The  happy  notes  of  forest  birds; 

The  mellow  whistle  of  the  quail, 

The  bubbling  brook  and  sighing  gale; 


26  ROSITA  : 

The  eagle  overhead  did  scream, 
The  wild  deer  wandered  to  the  stream; 
The  hare  disported  in  the  sun, 
All  fearless  of  the  hounds  and  gun; 
Gray  squirrels  barked  in  every  tree, 
And  Nature's  breath  was  harmony. 
If  here  to-day  his  eye  could  range 
How  sadly  would  he  mark  the  change; 
For  year  by  year  the  hand  of  man, 
Convulsing  Nature's  happy  plan, 
In  dull  ambition  would  revise 
What  first  was  formed  a  paradise; 
And  soon  the  sweltering  crowds  who  fly 
The  dingy  city's  smoky  sky, 
And  to  the  hills  and  groves  repair 
To  catch  a  breath  of  wholesome  air, 
May  find  that  Nature  cannot  grant 
The  rural  joys  for  which  they  pant. 


'Tis  night,  fair  Luna  hides  her  beam, 
And  dark  is  Uvas'  running  stream, 
And  darker  still  the  rock  above, 
But  lights  are  flashing  in  the  grove; 
For  in  that  lonely  safe  retreat 
The  robber  chieftain  waits  to  greet 
The  members  of  his  lawless  band, 
Assembling  fast  at  his  command; 


A   CALIFORNIA    TALB.  27 

And  closely  folded  in  his  cloak 
He  stands  beneath  a  mighty  oak, 
Apart  and  silent,  yet,  I  ween, 
The  wildest  spirit  of  the  scene. 
From  branches  low  the  lanterns  shine, 
Beneath  in  groups  the  men  recline; 
And  hobbled  horses  limp  around, 
Clipping  the  herbage  from  the  ground, 
Or  reaching  lazily  to  browse 
Among  the  overhanging  boughs; 
And  oft  the  stillness  sharply  wakes 
At  stamping  hoof,  or  twig  that  breaks, 
Or  restless  robber's  smothered  oath, 
Which  well  betrays  a  spirit  loth 
To  bear  restraint;  and  when  is  heard 
The  hoot  of  night's  unquiet  bird — 
Their  signal  cry — and  from  the  group 
Some  villain  answers  with  a  whoop 
So  well  attuned  that  stranger  nigh 
Would  never  deem  it  human  cry, 
The  echoes  waken  far  and  near 
The  mountain  air  so  still  and  clear. 
At  leng'th  Joaquin  in  Spanish  tongue 
Calls  Mariana  from  among 
The  restless  throng:  "Lieutenant,  come, 
The  men  are  growing  troublesome; 
To  Powers'  cabin,  give  the  word, 
My  latest  plans  shall  there  be  heard." 


28  IIOSITA  : 

And  through  the  grove  at  swiftest  pace 
He  leads  them  toward  the  trystihg  place,— 
A  redwood  cabin  large  and  low, 
'Gainst  which  in  wild  confusion  grow 
The  clambering  vine  and  poison  oak, 
Entwined  so  thickly  as  to  cloak 
The  old  and  storm- wracked  frame  beneath. 
Above  the  roof- tree  curls  a  wreath 
Of  silvery  smoke,  and  from  the  door 
The  ruddy  firelight  dances  o'er 
The  sward  in  front,  where  now  Joaquin 
Pauses  to  see,  himself  unseen. 
Before  the  fire  his  host  alone 
Sits  like  a  king  upon  his  throne; 
His  elbow  on  a  table  rests, 
And  all  unconscious  of  his  guests, 
He  puffs  his  pipe,  and  nods  and  winks, 
Then  tips  his  glass  and  slowly  drinks, 
And  as  he  lifts  a  bottle  near 
Joaquin's  low  voice  salutes  his  ear: 

* 'Powers.''    "Joaquin,  oho,  my  friends," 
And  low  before  the  chief  he  bends. 

"Next  to  the  devil  I  love  his  chum; 
Come  in,  my  bould  guerrillas,  come." 
And  as  he  speaks,  from  out  the  gloom 
Full  fifty  villains  crowd  the  room, 
And  seat  themselves  at  Powers'  call 
On  stools  and  benches  'gainst  the  wall. 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE. 

"Now  boys,"  cries  he,  with  a  happy  wink, 
"Ye  must  be  dry,  so  what'll  ye  drink? 
Whisky,  of  course,"  a  clinking  sound, 
And  glass  meets  glass  the  table  round. 
The  sparkling  liquor  fills  each  cup, 
And  Powers  cries,  "Me  hearties,  sup." 
Advancing,  lifting  from  the  board 
Their  glasses  high,  with  one  accord 
All  shout  "Joaquin!"     Their  leader  bows: 
"My  friends,"  cries  he,  "the  law  allows 
For  each  and  all  the  hangman's  rope; 
That  we  deserve  it  is  my  hope; 
And  lest  that  hope  we  fail  to  win, 
The  evening's  business  shall  begin." 
His  broad  sombrero  meets  the  floor, 
The  cloak  conceals  his  form  no  more; 
And  as  his  men  their  seats  resume, 
Full  in  the  center  of  the  room 
Their  chieftain  stands  erect  and  tall. 
His  golden  locks  in  clusters  fall 
O'er  shoulders  broad;  his  handsome  face 
Now  well  revealed  betrays  no  trace 
Of  lurking  evil;  and  his  eyes 
As  brightly  blue  as  summer  skies, 
Are  glancing  free;  a  long  mustache 
Conceals  his  lips,  save  when  a  flash 
Of  glittering  teeth  reveals  a  smile 
Which  might  suspicion's  self  beguile. 


29 


30  ROSITA  : 

Strapped  to  his  heels  are  silver  spurs, 

Which  jingle  softly  as  he  stirs, 

And  a  leathern  belt  is  round  his  waist, 

In  which  are  sheathed  revolvers  placed, 

In  perfect  readiness  for  a  hand, 

The  swiftest,  truest  in  the  land. 

He  waves  that  hand,  and  round  the  hall 

All  eyes  upon  their  leader  fall, 

And  silence  greets  him  as  he  bends 

A  courteous  glance  upon  his  friends, 

And  thus  continues:     "You  must  know 

To  what  untoward  events  I  owe 

My  avocation  and  my  fame, 

Ere  my  too  willing  lips  shall  name 

This 'meeting's  drift;  your  hearts  shall  share 

A  grief  which  once  I  thought  to  bear 

Alone  forever, — 'tis  your  due, 

And  thus  these  memories  I  renew. 

Unnecessary  it  appears 

To  dwell  too  long  on  earlier  years — 

Years  that  were  all  too  bright  to  last; 

I  pass  them  swiftly,  as  they  passed, 

And  lift  the  veil,  where,  as  a  man, 

My  sad  experiences  began. 

I  then  was  young,  and  gay,  and  proud, 

With  health  and  energy  endowed; 

But  inactivity  soon  begot 

Such  discontentment  for  my  lot, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  31 

That  all  the  joys  of  love  and  home  • 

Were  powerless  'gainst  the  wish  to  roam. 

Fortune  is  free  for  all,  I  cried; 

I'll  win  a  competence  for  my  bride; 

A  name  and  fame  which  one  so  fair 

And  good  as  she  with  prida  may  share. 

Ambition's  banner  ne'er  unfurled 

O'er  fairer  fields  in  this  wide  world 

Than  California  now  bestows; 

I'll  seek  that  golden  shore,  nor  lose 

A  moment's  time.     'Wouldst  thou  begona 

And  leave  thy  loving  spouse  alone? 

Wouldst  thou  for  wealth  or  fame  divide 

From  one  who  lives  but  by  thy  side  ?' 

Ah,  never,  never,  then  I  cried; 

Let  thy  adieus,  thy  tears  be  brief; 

Give  all  to  hope  and  naught  to  grief; 

In  one  short  week  we  gain  a  shore 

Than  which  no  fairer  lists  the  roar 

Of  ocean  waves.     Too  long  to  tell, 

Of  voyage  rough  and  what  befell; 

Suffice  to  say  a  fortnight  rolled, 

And  we  had  passed  the  Gate  of  Gold, 

And  dropped  our  anchors  in  the"  bay; 

And  as  those  scenes  around  us  lay 

I  little  thought  this  land  should  yield 

To  crime  of  mine  so  fair  a  field. 

Away  to  the  hills  we  quickly  sped, 


32  nosiTA  : 

By  golden  hopes  and  visions  led, 
And  soon  with  shovel,  pick  and  pan, 
My  way  to  fortune  I  began, 
In  circumstances,  as  they  say; 
For  hope  may  cheer  us  for  a  day; 
But  love  and  hope  together  wield 
A  mighty  power,  and  I  was  steeled 
Against  discouragement  too  well 
To  tamely  yield,  whate'er  befel. 
Unused  to  drudgery  'twas  hard, 
But  perseverance  brings  reward, 
And  three  short  months  had  hardly  flown 
Ere  fortune  had  her  favor  shown, 
Remunerating  toil  and  trust 
"With  many  an  ounce  of  glittering  dust, 
Which  only  served   t'  increase  my  lust 
And  my  ambition;  thus  enchanted, 
Along  the  road  to  wealth  I  panted; 
Ne'er  dreaming  that  I  fiercely  toiled 
To  be  at  last  o'ercome,  despoiled — 
Robbed  of  my  all  and  forced  to  flight 
By  villains  who  made  might  their  right. 
Think  not  the  life  I  sought  to  save 
Was  mine;  my  spirit  well  could  brave 
The  danger  of  th'  unequal  strife; 
But  she  was  dearer  far  than  life; 
And  I,  her  love,  her  faith,  her  shield, 
For  her  sweet  sake  must  calmly  yield, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALB. 

And  seek  some  safer,  happier  field. 
We  sought,  we  found,  I  toiled  in  vain, 
Again  despoiled,  and  yet  again; 
And  with  the  last  time  wild  despair 
And  frenzy  filled  me;  I  could  bear 
No  more,  no  more,  and  fiercely  rushed 
To  crush  th'  invaders,  and  was  crushed. 
Unconscious  there,  and  left  for  dead, 
Full  many  an  hour  had  swiftly  sped 
Ere  I  awoke.     The  day  was  done, 
And  o'er  the  western  peaks  the  sun 
Was  slowly  sinking  from  my  gaze, 
As  stiff  and  sore  I  tried  to  raise 
My  weary  frame,  and  half  collect 
My  wandering  senses;  little  wrecked 
I  of  myself  when  they  returned ; 
Of  her  my  thought,  for  her  I  yearned; 
And  faintly  calling  her  dear  name, 
To  which  no  wonted  answer  came^ 
I  dragged  myself  on  hands  and  knees, 
And  gained  by  painful,  slow  degrees 
Our  cabin  door;  I  found  her  there, 
And  thought  her  dead,  and  in  despair 
I  moaned  above  her  prostrate  form, 
And  kissed  her  cheeks  and  lips  yet  warm, 
And  swore  an  oath  that  should  I  live 
Her  dastard  murderers  each  should  give 
His  heart's  best  blood  for  this^  and  then 


34  ROSITA  t 

Unconsciousness  returned  again. 

She  was  not  dead,  and  I  regained 

What  little  life  to  me  remained, 

And  nursed  her  well  till  strength  returned; 

And  then  from  her  dear  lips  I  learned 

To  what  a  shameful,  deep  distress 

She  was  subjected  you  may  guess; 

What  I  could  not  have  well  believed 

If  from  another's  lips  received. 

From  that  sad  day  J  bade  adieu 

To  drudgery,  and  sought  a  new 

And  surer  road  to  wealth  and  fame, 

And  in  it  I  have  gained  a  name 

Which  seems  a  terror  to  the  land; 

And  better  far,  this  ruthless  hand 

Has  sent  to  swift  destruction  all 

Who  forced  me  surely  toward  my  fall. 

Revenge  is  sweet,  and  vice  is  sweet, 

And  honesty  is  but  a  cheat; 

For  vice  hath  led  me  as  a  guide 

To  that  which  virtue  long  denied. 

But  now  of  vice  and  vengeance  both 

I've  had  a  surfeit,  and  am  loth 

To  longer  tread  this  cursed  land, 

Which  yields  to  me  no  friendly  hand, 

And  save  the  remnant  of  my  band 

And  her  I  love,  no  happy  tie 

To  bind  my  heart.     Oh,  Liberty, 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE.  35 

With  love  and  thee  I  fain  would  roam, 
And  seek  again  my  boyhood's  home; 
A  father's  blessing  there  receive, 
There  bid  a  mother  cease  to  grieve; 
And  there,  afar  from  strife  and  gloom, 
A  life  of  happiness  resume, 
Amid  the  scenes  which  once  my  eyes 
Were  blind  enough  to  half  despise." 
A  murmur  low  goes  round  the  hall 
As  from  his  lips  the  last  words  fall, 
And  many  a  listener  turns  his  eyes 
Upon  his  chieftain  in  surprise, 
As  if  to  mark  what  sudden  change 
Had  wrought  a  sentiment  so  strange 
In  one  whose  dearest  joy  in  life 
Had  seemed  to  be  its  yielded  strife. 
Each  startled  glance  the  speaker  reads> 
And  yet  composedly  proceeds: 
*'My  trusted  friends  and  comrades  true, 
One  last  request  I  make  of  you; 
Release  me  quickly  from  an  oath 
Which  binds  me  fast  to  scenes  I  loath, 
For  now  my  work  of  vengeance  done, 
And  fortune's  smile  so  nearly  won. 
Each  day,  each  hour  I  linger  here 
But  makes  this  cursed  land  appear 
More  dark  and  hateful  to  my  sight; 
Its  very  beauties  urge  my  flight; 


36  EOSITA  : 

For  once  those  beauties  lured  me  on 
Till  hope  and  life  almost  were  gone. 
Accept  my  resignation  now, 
Release  me  as  our  laws  allow; 
Here  let  me  greet  with  equal  hand 
Each  separate  member  of  the  band, 
And  then  farewell  for  evermore 
To  California's  siren  shore." 
As  round  the  room  fye  swiftly  moves 
Not  one  of  all  the  band  appiwes, 
And  yet  among  them  none  withdraw, 
So  long  his  word  has  been  their  law. 
In  turn  he  greets  them,  and  in  turn 
The  absolvatory  oath  is  sworn, 
And  thanks  returned ,  until  at  last 
The  point  is  gained,  the  ordeal  past, 
And  he  is  free  to  bid  farewell 
To  all  that  makes  his  life  a  hell. 
But  rises  now  confusion  wild, 
For  few  as  yet  are  reconciled 
To  this  unlocked  for  change,  which  seems 
A  deadly  blow  to  all  their  schemes; 
And  disappointment  fans  the  flame, 
Till  boisterously  they  shout  his  name 
Coupled  with  angry  oaths  and  cries, 
To  which  all  fiercely  he  replies : 
^''Because  I  thus  perforce  resign, 

Must  you  for  answer  howl  and  whine  ? 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE.  37 

Appearing  even  at  your  best 
Like  poodle  puppies  in  your  nest. 
Ye  cowards!  shame!  I  thought  ye  men, 
And  left  ye  free  to  choose  again 
Some  worthy  leader.     Come,  llamon, 
We'll  leave  the  hounds  to  howl  alone." 
And  scornful  laughter  smites  their  ears 
As  with  Ramon  he  disappears. 
They  move  in  silence  till  they  stand 
Within  the  grove  where  met  the  band, 
And  there  Joaquin,  in  tone  suppressed, 
Tells  what  his  mate  ere  this  has  guessed; 
Of  richest  booty  to  be  won     . 
Ere  shines  on  high  another  sun. 
"Yon  devils  should  have  shared  the  spoil 
Had  they  not  sought  with  wild  turmoil 
To  fright  me  from  my  purpose  new, 
Of  bidding  them  and  hell  adieu. 
As  'tis,  me  thinks  they'll  soon  disband — 
Perchance  ere  we  have  left  the  strand; 
For  Lynch's  hounds  will  fright  them  some, 
And  sloth  will  finish  them;  but  come, 
We'll  rest  within  these  sheltering  bowers, 
To-morrow  makes  the  booty  ours. 


Meanwhile,  deserted  by  their  chief, 
The  banded  villains  seek  relief 


38  ROSITA  : 

In  copious  draughts  of  liquid  fire, 
Supplied  by  Powers.     Wilder,  higher 
The  tumult  swells,  as  scarcely  able 
Mariana  mounts  the  creaking  table, 
And  led  by  him,  the  reckless  throng 
Like  demons  howl  the  following  song: 

This  land  is  ours,  this  land  is  ours, 

From  far  Sierra  to  the  sea, 
Its  hills  and  dales  and  lovely  bowers 

Are  dear  to  HS — to  us  are  tree; 
But  roaming  now  where'er  we  will, 

From  north  to  south,  from  hill  to  strand, 
The  cursed  Gringo  meets  us  still, 

And  scorns  us  in  our  native  land. 

This  land  is  ours,  this  land  is  ours, 

The  fairest  'tis  beneath  the  sky; 
We  are  the  children  which  it  dowers, 

Tho'  strangers  all  our  claims  deny; 
And  cursed  be  those  who  dare  oppose 

Our  rights  and  privileges  to-day; 
With  every  breath  we'll  wish  them  death, 

And  hunt  and  crush  them  when  we  may. 

This  land  is  ours,  this  land  is  ours, 
The  richest  'tis  beneath  the  sun, 

Each  rock  and  hill  the  stranger  scours 
That  fortune  lightly  may  be  won; 

But  let  him  bend,  and  sweat,  and  toil, 
We'll  watch  like  foxes  for  the  preyr 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE. 

And  soon  relieved  of  all  his  spoil 
His  form  shall  rot  beneath  the  clay. 

So  fill  your  cups,  niy  comrades  bold, 

And  drink  to  Gringo's  quick  success, 
Who  toils  and  sweats  to  gain  the  gold 

Which  we  shall  soon  by  force  possess; 
And  prime  your  pistols,  whet  your  knives, 

The  secret  work  must  soon  be  done; 
Without  a  share  of  cursed  lives 

The  booty  gained  is  dearly  won. 

As  swells  the  sounds  of  mirth  so  high, 

Within  is  heard  a  muffled  cry, 

And  robbers  quake  to  hear  the  sound 

Of  "vigilantes"  whispered  round. 

A  sudden  hush  succeeds  to  mirth, 

Tbe  fire  is  quenched  upon  the  hearth, 

The  light  extinguished,  and  the  door 

Is  barred  by  braces  'gainst  the  floor, 

And  all  so  quickly  one  might  deem 

The  former  tumult  but  a  dream; 

So  dark  it  is  within  the  walls, 

So  deep  the  silence  now  that  falls; 

Unbroken  save  by  pistol's  click. 

Or  breath  of  fear  so  short  and  thick, 

As  close  the  trembling  outlaws  stand 

With  knives  and  pistols  clutched  in  hand, 

Awaiting,  fearing  the  attack; 

As  crouch  at  bay  the  wolfish  pack 


39 


40  ROSITA  : 

"When  hounds  and  hunters  hurrjr  in. 
Without  'tis  starlight,  but  within 
No  struggling  ray  can  pierce  the  gloom, 
And  all's  as  silent  as  a  tomb. 
That  silence  wakes,  a  shot  resounds, 
And  cries  ring  out  of  "Back  ye  hounds," 
As  vigilantes  burst  the  door 
•  And  flash  a  gleam  of  light  before; 
Revealing — crash,  the  lantern  falls, 
Pierced  by  a  dozen  pistol  balls; 
As  swift  the  robbers  meet  th'  attack, 
And  clashing  knives  and  pistol's  crack, 
And  oaths  and  blows  and  timbers  breaking, 
And  fiendish  yells,  the  echoes  waking, 
Tell  that  a  conflict  fierce  they  wage, 
As  hand  to  hand  they  now  engage. 
Woe  to  the  robber  here  who  falls, 
Or  fails  to  burst  the  cabin  walls; 
For  now  so  fierce,  so  wild  the  fray, 
He  surely  dies  who  dares  to  stay; 
And  well  they  know  it,  swift  their  flight, 
Befriended  well  by  darksome  night; 
Their  only  hope  the  shadowy  grove, 
Where  saddled  horses  idly  rove. 

The  shots,  the  yells,  and  th'  hurried  tread 
Have  roused  Joaquin  from  his  leafy  bed; 
He  pauses  a  moment  to  mark  the  fray, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  41 

Then  springs  on  his  steed  and  darts  away; 
Away  to  the  strife-,  but  not  alone, 
Behind,  like  a  shadow,  hies  Ramon; 
For  where  his  chieftain  deigns  to  guide, 
Ramon  all  fearless  seeks  his  side; 
Nor  deems  'tis  danger  that  he  dares 
When  brave  Joaquin  the  venture  shares. 
Away,  away,  not  a  moment  speeds 
Ere  up  to  the  door  they  wheel  their  steeds; 
But  brief  their  pause,  for  soon  they  know 
No  friend  is  there,  but  many  a  foe; 
For  many  a  hostile  shot  resounds, 
And  many  a  foe  to  the  saddle  bounds; 
But  one  does  not,  for  tho'  'tis  dark, 
Joaquin's  true  bullet  strikes  the  mark. 
As  hies  his  steed  to  the  vale  below, 
Swift  as  an  arrow  from  the  bow, 
Not  once  he  turns  his  mate  to  greet, 
For  close  behind  he  hears  the  beat 
Of  clattering  hoofs,  as  on  they  strain, 
With  jingling  spur  and  loosened  rein; 
But  the  hindmost  horse  heeds  not  the  check, 
And  gains  in  speed,  till  neck  and  neck 
They  gallop  now;  the  chieftain  stares, 
For  the  steed  beside  no  rider  bears; 
And  bursts  from  his  lips  a  groan  of  pain, 
And  his  hand  so  wildly  grasps  the  rein 
That  his  mustang  rears,  thus  fiercely  bound, 


42  ROSITA  : 

Till  his  very  haunches  touch  the  ground, 
Then  quick  recovered,  trembling  stands 
A  very  slave  in  his  master's  hands. 
That  master  sounds  the  signal  cry, 
Again  and  again  the  echoes  die, 
But  wakes  no  answer  far  or  near; 
And  oh  'tis  vain  to  tarry  here, 
And  worse  than  vain  to  hie  him  back^ 
For  fierce  pursuers  are  on  his  track; 
He  hears  them  now:  "Away  my  steed, 
For  thou  art  fleet,  and  well  the  need 
Of  fleetness  now  with  strength  combined^ 
For  Lynch's  hounds  are  close  behind. 


Now  smiles  the  scene,  for  night  is  gone, 
And  faint  and  silvery  streaks  of  dawn 
Herald  a  day  as  fair  and  bright 
As  e'er  succeeded  gloomy  night; 
But  the  brightest  day  may  seem  more  drear 
Than  the  darkest  night  to  the  glance  of  fear; 
And  the  night  of  gloom  flits  all  to  fast 
When  a  mortal  deems  that  night  his  last. 
The  mountain  mists  have  curled  away, 
And  shines  on  high  the  orb  of  day, 
As  now  a  group  of  rangers  bold 
A  council  of  importance  hold. 
Beside  the  late  deserted  lair 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  43 

Three  stiffening  corpses  upward  stare, 
And  bound  beneath  a  white  oak  tree 
A  prisoner  stoops  in  agony. 
His  head  is  drooped  upon  his  breast, 
And  both  his  hands  are  fiercely  pressed 
Against  his  cloak,  all  crimson  dyed 
With  life's  now  swiftly  ebbing  tide; 
For  life  it  is  that  surely  flows, 
And  this  the  silent  sufferer  knows; 
But  a  thought  is  burning  in  his  brain, 
And  his  wound  becomes  the  lesser  pain, 
As  he  dwells  upon  the  years  of  woe 
That  HER  true  heart  must  undergo, 
And  he  lifts  his  head  with  a  hollow  groan: 
It  is — ye  gods — it  is  Eamon. 

"Now  prisoner,  if  you  deign  to  tell 

What  we  shall  else  by  force  compel, 

Tea  minutes'  time  we  grant;  confess 

The  truth,  the  whole  truth,  nothing  less, 

Concerning  this  infernal  band 

That  depredates  our  peaceful  land; 

Their  names,  abodes,  concealments,  plans; 

If  not — your  eye  this  halter  scans — 

Your  neck  shall  feel  it — come,  we  spare, 

Or  swing  your  carcass  high  in  air. " 

Ramon  in  faintest  tone  replies: 
"Your  prisoner,  sir,  already  dies, 


44  ROSITA  : 

But  were  he  blest  with  lives  a  score 
Each  life  should  yield  to  death  before 
The  cursed  Gringos  e'er  should  wrest 
One  wished-for  secret  from  my  breast." 

"Up  with  him,  boys,  and  choke  him  well, 
The  thieving  hound  shall  die  or  tell." 
And  answering  quick  the  leader's  beck 
The  dreadful  noose  is  'round  his  neck, 
And  ere  his  lips  may  breath  a  prayer 
His  quivering  body  swings  in  air. 
Oh,  fearful  sight  to  pitying  eyes; 

"Enough,  enough,"  the  leader  cries, 
As  with  a  quick,  convulsive  thrill 
The  heaving  breast  and  limbs  are  still. 
As  sinks  the  victim  to  the  ground, 
His  fierce  tormentors  gather  round, 
And  anxiously  tho'  roughly  strive 
The  poor  unfortunate  to  revive. 
In  vain,  in  vain,  misguided  men, 
Those  lips  shall  ne'er  respond  again; 
Those  midnight  eyes  are  fixed  in  death; 
Forever  flown  the  fluttering  breath ; 
And  stilled  the  heart  which  here  has  spilt, 
Whether  in  innocence  or  guilt, 
Its  last  red  drop  ere  you  could  prove 
It  false  to  friendship  or  to  love. 

Merrily  glides  the  Uvas  stream, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  45 

Laving  the  rocks  with  silvery  gleam; 

Whirling  the  yellow  leaves  along, 

Singing  its  low  and  ceaseless  song, 

Which  mingles  oft  with  th'  whispering  sigh 

Of  the  breeze  among  the  branches  nigh; 

Where  perched  the  murmuring  stream  above, 

So  softly  mourns  the  turtle  dove; 

Or  echoes  far  the  varying  note 

From  man}'  a  warbler's  tuneful  throat. 

So  sweet  the  sounds  that  greet  the  ear; 

One  ne'er  would  dream  of  discord  here; 

And  yet  to  searching  eyes  I  ween 

The  signs  of  strife  may  yet  be  seen ; 

The  footprint  deep,  the  bloody  stain, 

Or  darker  tokens  that  remain; 

For  still  those  frightful  corpses  stare; 

And  flung  beside,  their  sleep  to  share, 

Behold  Ramon,  where  late  he  sunk 

Neglected  lies  his  HEADLESS  trunk. 


'Now  all  aboard,"  and  at  the  shout 
The  dust  stained  travelers  hurry  out, 
And  deeming  well  their  baggage  tied, 
Mount  to  the  top  or  climb  inside 
The  lumbering  coach,  and  here  and  there 
The  driver  flits,  collecting  fare; 
While  hostlers  handily  hook  the  trace, 


46  KOSITA  r 

Or  fling  the  harness  to  its  place, 
Till  the  restless  steeds  are  ready  quite, 
And  the  passengers  crowded  in — "All  right 
And  Jehu's  face  with  pleasure  shines 
As  in  the  box  he  grasps  the  lines; 
A  moment  pausing  in  his  need 
To  take  a  chew  of  the  filthy  weed; 
Then  cracks  his  whip — away  they  speed; 
And  now  along  the  lonely  road, 
Full  many  a  mile  from  man's  abode, 
The  stagers  whirl  their  human  freight, 
•     Who  well  enjoy  the  "ten-mile  gait," 
As  on  they  jolt  and  rock  and  grind, 
While  clouds  of  dust  roll  up  behind 
Filling  their  eyes  and  ears  with  grime. 
But  Jehu's  bound  to  be  on  time, 
And  ne'er  a  moment  slackens  speed 
Tho'  children  cry  or  women  plead; 
Or  crusty  bachelors  groan  and  swear, 
For  time  must  be  his  only  care. 
At  length  the  hills  before  them  rise, 
In  nature's  rough  though  lovely  guise, 
And  winds  the  narrowed  road  between 
Large  clumps  of  oak  and  thickets  green; 
Where  more  uneven  still  the  way, 
The  rocks  and  roots  their  speed  delay, 
As  up  or  down  the  sudden  steep, 
Or  round  the  curves  they  seem  to  creep, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE. 

Till  twice  they  cross  the  pebbly  stream, 

And  halt  at  last  to  breathe  the  team. 

A  lovely  niche  within  the  hill 

Their  resting  place;  a  tiny  rill 

Comes  trickling  down  the  brushy  height, 

And  circles  in  a  pool  so  bright, 

It  mirrors  all  the  copse  above; 

And  far  below  the  eye  may  rove 

O'er  distant  groves  and  meadows  green, 

Through  which  the  winding  road  is  seen. 

So  fair  the  view  it  charms  the  eye, 

And  admiration  rises  high. 

But  scenes  like  this  to  Jehu's  eyes 

Are  more  familiar,  and  he  hies 

Now  to  and  from  the  limped  pool, 

His  panting  horses'  thirst  to  cool. 

But  midway  suddenly  he  stops, 

And  from  his  hand  the  bucket  drops; 

For  his  quick  ear  has  caught  the  sound 

Of  coming  hoofs,  and  with  a  bound 

He  holds  the  leaders  well  in  hand, 

Nor  deems  it  safe  to  quit  his  stand, 

As  round  a  curve  two  horsemen  dash 

On  fleetest  steeds,  and  in  a  flash, 

Ere  he  has  time  to  think  of  fright,) 

E'en  as  they  pass  him  in  their  flight, 

A  lariata  binds  him  round 

And  jerks  him  senseless  to  the  ground; 


47 


48  ROSITA  : 

But  ere  the  steeds  their  freedom  gain 
The  fierce  vaquero  grasps  the  rein, 
And  checks  them  'gainst  the  brushy  hill ; 
While  his  companion  fiercer  still 
Before  the  frightened  travelers  stands 
With  cocked  revolvers  in  his  hands. 

"Hold  up  your  arms — up,  up,"  he  cries 

"Who  e'er  refuses  surely  dies. 
My  name's  Joaquin,  my  band  is  near; 
Be  quiet  and  you  need  not  fear. 
Francisco,  quick,  that  driver  bind, 
Then  search  the  boot,  the  box  you'll  find; 
Shiver  the  padlocks  with  your  ax, 
And  if  you  find  the  canvass  sacks 
Take  them  and  leave  all  else  intact. 
And  when  you  have  them  safely  packed 
Upon  your  saddle,  mount  and  fly, 
I'll  overtake  you  by  and  b}'. 
Hold  up  your  hands,  sir;  lady  dear, 
I  pra}T  thee  check  thy  rising  fear, 
For  all  the  world  I  would  not  harm 
A  hair  of  thee,  but  lift  thy  arm; 
The  slightest  chance  I  cannot  take, 
For  I  have  life  and  more  at  stake. 
Francisco,  ah,  you're  off  at  last; 
Go  on,  I'll  see  you  safely  past; 
Then  speed.     And  now  my  friends  to  you,'" 
And  gracefully  he  bows — "adieu." 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  49 

And  with  his  pistols  leveled  still 
He.  backs  his  horse  adown  the  hill, 
Then  wheels  him  'round  in  swiftest  flight 
And  disappears  at  once  from  sight. 

Tho'  trembling  still  from  recent  fright, 
The  passengers  at  length  alight, 
And  cut  the  gordian  knots  that  bind 
Unhappy  Jehu,  still  reclined 
All  in  a  heap  beside  the  way, 
The  vanquished  victim  of  the  fray. 
By  them  assisted  to  his  feet 
He  staggers  slowly  toward  a  seat 
Beside  the  pool,  a  mossy  stone, 
On  which  he  sinks  with  heavy  groan; 
And  bending  now  to  lave  his  brow 
He  mutters  fiercely  to  hirnself : 
"'A  curse  upon  the  company's  pelf; 
When  all  advice  they  disregard, 
And  trust  it  here  without  a  ward; 
If  me  responsible  they  hold 
For  one  lost  dollar  of  their  gold, 
By  e'en  so  much  as  one  reproach, 
Some  other  fool  may  drive  their  coach  ; 
I'm  sick  of  it;  of  late  I've  seen 
Too  many  villains  like  Joaquin." 
And  now  his  fit  of  faintness  o'er, 
He  rises  to  his  feet  once  more; 


50  EOSITA   : 

Flings  up  the  broken  box,  and  leads 
Back  to  their  place  the  tangled  steeds; 
And  having  all  to  rights  restored, 
Climbs  to  his  seat  and  shouts  "Aboard;" 
Then  speeds  his  horses  up  the  grade 
To  gain  the  time  so  long  delayed; 
And  as  they  move,  Joaquiii  at  last 
Becomes  a  wasted  theme — surpassed — 
As  tourists  now  in  safety  bold 
Their  wildest  narratives  unfold, 
Of  fierce  banditti  'mong  the  Alps, 
Of  Indian  massacres  and  scalps; 
Of  ghosts  at  midnight — horrid  shapes — 
And  wonderful  hair-breadth  escapes; 
But  soon  they  climb  the  glorious  hills, 
And  now  each  breast  with  pleasure  thrills, 
Each  eye  with  admiration  fires, 
And  every  tongue  in  haste  aspires 
To  yield  the  praise  so  justly  due 
To  the  fair  fields  that  meet  the  view; 
Till  fear,  conceit,  and  e'en  Joaquin 
Are  half  forgotten  in  the  scene. 

As  far  the  stormy  petrel  flies, 
Treading  the  billows  as  they  rise; 
Now  high  along  the  watery  pave, 
Now  deep  within  the  hollowed  wave, 
From  which  emerging  far  away, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  51 

Among  the  glittering-  clouds  of  spray, 
It  wings  its  way  in  swiftest  flight, 
At  times  concealed,  again  in  sight; 
So  far  along  the  summits  gray 
A  lonely  horseman  takes  his  way; 
O'er  many  a  ridge,  in  many  a  glen, 
He  disappears  to  rise  again 
On  some  far  hill,  from  which  he  roves 
Through  copses  wild  or  shadowy  groves, 
Till  many  a  mile  is  left  behind; 
And  Phoebus  o'er  the  wave  declined, 
Yields  but  a  faint  and  struggling  ray 
To  point  his  dark  and  lonely  way, 
TJntil  he  gains  and  treads  aright 
The  winding  path  to  Loma's  height. 

*'Ah,  my  Joaquin,  when  thou  dost  stray, 
The  hours  drag  wearily  away; 
How  wearily  thou  canst  not  know; 
Tho'  pressed  by  many  a  deadly  foe, 
O'er  dangerous  paths,  the  varied  scene 
Around  thee  changing  still  I  ween 
Employs  thy  mind  until  our  lot, 
However  sad  is  well  forgot. 
But,  ah,  how  different  with  rue, 
Too  frail,  too  weak  to  roam  with  thee, 
In  limits  here  perforce  confined 
With  that  unhappy  fiend,  the  mind, 


no  SIT  A  '. 

To  torture  me;  oh  who  can  guess 
The  measure  of  my  lone  distress; 
For  lone  I  am  when  far  from  thee, 
Tho'  hundreds  bear  me  company. 
Ah,  what  forbodings  filled  my  breast 
When  far  along  old  Loma's  crest 
I  saw  thee  wave  thy  last  adieu, 
And  turn  so  swiftly  from  my  view; 
Twas  then  my  courage  me  forsook, 
And  doubt  and  fear  possession  took 
Of  my  poor  heart,  and  hour  by  hour 
I  watched  beneath  the  lilac  bower 
That  crowns  our  cave;  Rosita  sharing 
My  vigil  saw  me  thus  despairing, 
And  begged  me  wildly  to  take  heart, 
As  'twas  the  last  time  we  should  part; 
And  oh  I  feared  it  was  too  true, 
Thou  ne'er  again  wouldst  bless  my  view 
But  I  wras  wrong,  love,  doubly  wrong, 
For  here  again  I  feel  thy  strong 
And  loving  arm,  and  well  I  trace 
The  token  in  thy  handsome  face 
That  bids  me  hope  for  that  success 
Which  ends  my  fear,  my  loneliness." 

"Yes,  yes,  my  sweet,  unhappy  one, 
Thy  fear,  thy  loneliness  are  done; 
No  more  shalt  thou  our  fortune  rue 


A    CALIFOKN'IA    TALE. 

Whilst  I  like  fox  the  game  pursue; 
No  more  at  even  shalt  thou  wait 
In  ignorance  of  thy  loved-one's  fate, 
Whilst  like  the  panting  deer  I  fly, 
With  hounds  and  hunters  in  full  cry; 
Our  days  of  strife  shall  well  be  o'er 
When  far  behind  us  fades  the  shore— 
The  shore  which  even  now  bestows 
Our  fortune  linked  with  later  woes; 
For  tho'  our  fondest  hopes  are  won, 
Our  friends,  Marie,  are  all  undone." 

"Undone,  Joaquin — oh  say  not  so." 
•'I  must — be  brave — and  thou  shalt  know 
The  worst.     When  I  returned  alone 
Thou  heardst  Rosita's  cry  '  Ramon, 
Where,  where  is  he  ?'  and  for  her  sake 
Some  trivial  answer  I  did  make; 
And  mentioned  unforseen  delay, 
And  that  he  would  return  to-day — 
To-day  at  noon*  he  comes,  Marie, 
But  sad  that  late  return  will  be; 
My  comrades  bear  him  to  the  height, 
And  here  within  the  cave  to-night 
He  must  be  buried.     Love  be  brave; 
It  rests  with  thee  alone  to  pave 
Her  path  to  grief,  to  help  her  bear 
This  shock,  and  lighten  her  despair. 


53 


54  EOSITA  : 

No  easy  task  I  fear  'twill  prove, 
But  tliou  canst  give  a  sisteVs  love — 
A  sister's  effort^  and  thy  heart 
If  brave  some  courage  may  impart. 
One  moment,  for  I've  more  to  tell, 
Although  it  racks  my  heart  to  dwell 
On  woes  which  blanch  thy  lovely  cheek, 
And  thrill  thy  frame  so  frail  and  weak; 
But  e'en  the  worst  thou  now  must  share; 
And  thus  I  speak :  my  comrades  bear 
A  headless  corpse!     Be  calm,  marie , 
For  now  a  heroine  thou  must  be. 
But  ah,  no  wonder  thou  art  shaken 
When  thus  Rosita  is  overtaken, 
And  doomed  by  fate  to  such  distress 
Upon  the  eve  of  happiness. 
Come,  rest  thee  in  these  shelt'ring  arms, 
And  soothe  thy  fluttering  heart's  alarms, 
And  when  thou  deemst  thyself  composed, 
This  depth  of  woe  must  be  disclosed 
.  By  thee  to  her,  whose  breaking  heart 
Will  need  thy  calmest,  gentlest  art." 

With  trembling  limbs  and  blanching  cheeks, 
Marie  her  fair  companion  seeks, 
To  breathe  a  tale  of  grief  and  woe, 
Which  poor  Rosita  needs  must 
And  her's  must  be  the  double  part 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE. 

Of  hopeful  mein,  iho'  breaking  heart; 
And  she  must  still  the  theme  pursue, 
Revealing  e'en  the  worst  to  view; 
Yet  in  such  manner  as  to  veil 
The  woes  her  friend  may  most  bewail. 
But  ah,  how  true  her  inmost  fears, 
A.  broken  heart  no  effort  cheers; 
And  wild  is  the  despair  expressed 
In  po'or  Rosita's  heaving  breast, 
And  bloodless  lips  and  clenching  hands, 
As  white  and  motionless  she  stands; 
And  oh,  how  set  her  glittering  eye, 
Whose  fountains  backward  seem  to  fly, 
As  sinks  from  sight  the  desert  stream, 
Leaving  the  burning  sands  to  gleam; 
And  could  the  light  cloud's  misty  rain 
O'erflow  thoso  burning  sands  again, 
Thy  tears,  Marie,  as  swift  they  flow, 
Might  soothe  thy  comrades  breast  of  woe; 
But  all  its  drops  that  cloud  may  shed, 
They  sink  nor  cool  the  streamlet's  bed, 
And  all  thy  sighs  and  tears  are  vain, 
For  pity's  drops  are  naught  to  pain. 

Within  the  cave  a  corpse  is  laid; 
Beside  the  bier  a  stricken  maid, 
And  o'er  the  living  and  the  dead 
The  waxen  candles  dimly  shed 


55 


66  ROSXTA  : 

Their  pale,  unearthly  light,  revealing 
A  woeful  sight,  as  gently  kneeling, 
That  lovely  mourner  lifts  the  pall, 
And  thus  her  frenzied  accents  fall : 

"And  thou  art  dead,  my  poor  Ramon, 
And  I  am  left  alone,  alone, 

To  sorrow  o'er  thy  soulless  clay, 
Which  soon  must  vanish  from  my  sight; 

Leaving  me  here  to  drag  away 
A  life  which  loneliness  doth  blight. 

And  my  sad  soul,  by  anguish  riven, 
Hath  not  the  boon  to  others  giveti, 

To  look  its  last  on  thy  dear  face, 
And  gently  close  thy  sightless  e}res; 

Thy  brow  receives  not  my  embrace ,. 
Thy  lips'  last  smile  e'en,  fate  denies, 

I  lay  my  head  upon  thy  breast, 

I  clasp  the  hands  that  oft  caressed; 

But  ah,  thy  fingers  are  as  cold, 
Thy  arms  as  rigid  as  of  stone; 

They  ne'er  again  will  me  enfold, 
For  thou  art  dead,  Ramon,  Ramon. 

I  would  my  fate  were  linked  with  thine,, 
Beside  thee  I  would  fain  recline; 

For  oh,  there's  woe  in  every  breath 
That  yields  the  life  unsought  by  me. 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE. 

Existence  is  a  lifelong  death, 
From  which,  oh,  Heaven,  set  ine  free." 

And  now  she  bows  beside  the  bier 
As  if  in  prayer,  till  friends  appear, 
For  soon  beneath  these  flickering  lights 
Must  be  performed  the  sacred  rites 
With  which  the  living  well  intrust 
Their  dead  to  earth's  all  conquering  dust. 

.Ramon  lies  buried  in  the  cave; 

Rosita  sorrows  o'er  his  grave, 

And  just  beyond  the  lilac  bloom 

That  marks  the  entrance  to  the  tomb, 

Marie  has  sought  her  husband's  side, 

From  which  no  more  she  will  divide; 

And  as  the  path  they  slowly  trace, 

She  looks  intently  in  his  face, 

And  well  has  guessed  his  inmost  thought. 

Ere  from  his  parting  lips  'tis  caught. 

'My  love,  tho'  grief  may  bind  us  here, 
New  perils  hourly  gather  near; 
For  some  among  the  motley  band 
That  late  acknowledged  my  command, 
Are  cold  and  cunning  brutes  at  heart, 
And  information  might  impart 
Concerning  me  which  here  would  lead 
The  minions  of  the  law.     Indeed 


58  ROSITA  : 

So  truly  anxious  have  I  grown, 

That  spite  of  her  and  poor  Ramon, 

I  dare  no  longer  trust  the  fate 

Which  has  so  treacherous  proved  of  late; 

And  thus  do  urge  this  very  night 

As  most  propitious  for  our  flight. 

Our  boat  awaits  us  on  the  shore; 

And  neath  its  wing  our  sorrow's  o'er, 

We'll  waft  us  from  this  strand  so  far 

That  e'en  remembrance  cannot  mar 

The  pleasures  of  the  happy  home 

That  waits  our  coming  o'er  the  foam." 


"Yes,  yes,  Joaquin,  but  what  of  her 
Who  would  departure  long  defer, 
Perchance  forever?  e'en  this  morn, 
With  wild  embrace  and  look  forlorn, 
She  bade  me  steel  my  loving  heart, 

'For  oh,'  cried  she,  'Marie,  we  part, 
We  needs  must  part;  I  cannot  tear 
My  heart  from  him,  nor  can  we  bear 
His  form  to  happier  climes;  for  oh, 
No  happier  clime  than  this  I  know. 
All,  all  are  dark,  all  yield  to  me 
But  woe,  and  pain,  and  misery;' 
And  thus  'gainst  pleading  she  will  stay, 
And  wre  cannot  our  flight  delay." 


A.   CALIFORNIA     TALE,  5J) 

:<This  her  decision?     Ah,  my  love, 
Rosita's  heart  too  weak  will  prove 
To  bear  a  parting  thus  severe; 
Her  only  friends  are  all  too  dear 
To  be  renounced  at  will  forever ; 
Mark  me,  from  us  she  will  not  sever. 
But  other  themes  let  us  pursue, 
To-night  this  subject  we  *-enew; 
And  now  as  o'er  the  hills  we  roam, 
I'll  point  thee  where  upon  the  foam 
Our  little  bark's  white  sail  to  view, 
Seems  like  a  star  in  heaven's  blue; 
And  as  we.  walk,  our  eyes  must  rove 
Their  last  o'er  hill  and  vale  and  grove, 
For  long  ere  sunrise  we  shall  be 
On  ocean's  breast  afar  and  free." 

And  thus  like  lovers  young  they  stray 
Till  sinks  the  sun,  and  fading  day 
Hurries  them  to  the  cave,  where  grief 
In  woeful  moaning  seeks  relief; 
And  where,  tho'  filled  with  pitying  care, 
For  secret  flight  they  must  prepare, 

Too  swiftly  comes  the  parting'hour, 
For  love  and  grief  have  not  the  power 
To  sway  Rosita's  ruthless  will; 
And  yet  her  friends  hope  on  until 


60  ROSITA  : 

Beside  the  cave  with  saddled  steeds, 
The  brave  Francisco  waits  their  needs; 
And  still,  tho'  wild  they  have  appealed, 
She  cannot  and  she  will  not  yield; 
And  they  must  part.     The  moon  is  high, 
And  white  clouds  o'r  the  heavens  fly; 
Their  shadows  flitting1  o'er  the  scene 
Like  forms  in  dreams,  as  speaks  Joaquin : 

"Farewell,  my  friend;  despite  this  woe, 
The  time  is  up  and  we  must  go. 
It  wrings  my  heart  to  see  thee  stay, 
But  now  too  long  our  steps  delay. 
Farewell;  if  e'er  thou  needst  a  friend 
But  seek  Joaquin  and  he  will  lend 
His  heart,  his  hand  to  thy  fair  will, 
His  life  if  need  be,  for  he  still 
In  good  or  ill  remembers  thee, 
As  dearest  friend  of  his  Marie." 

At  this  she  turns  a  pallid  face, 

Yet  calmly  seeks  his  warm  embrace; 

Once  yields  her  lips  to  his  caress, 

And  calls  on  heaven  her  friend  to  bless. 

But  sadder  moments  yet  remain, 

And  heaves  her  bosom,  throbs  her  brain, 

As  close  she  clasps  her  lovely  mate; 

Now  loud  bemoaning  cruel  fate 


i  UNtVfc' 
M 

A    CALIFORNIA    TALE.  61 

That  severs  thus  the  friends  of  years; 
And  checking  not  the  bitter  tears 
That  course  adown  that  comrade's  cheeks, 
In  accents  tremulous  she  speaks: 


iCWeep  not  for  me,  my  long  tried  friend; 
Thy  cheerful  parting  now  m.ist  lend 
Me  strength  renewed  my  ills  to  bear, 
And  save  my  heart  from  quick  despair. 
I  cannot  leave  with  thee  the  strand, 
For  I  am  wedded  to  this  land 
By  bonds  which  I  can  never  break, 
By  ties  which  I  cannot  forsake; 
My  love  is  here,  my  heart  is  here, 
And  one  whom  I  would  fain  be  near; 
So  with  thy  pleading  grieve  me  not, 
Let  poor  Eosita  be  forgot, 
Nor  seek  to  break  my  spoken  will, 

'Twill  only  make  it  firmer  still; 
And  now,  Marie,  thy  dangerous  road 
Lies  dark  before  and  must  be  trod, 
So  let  me  clasp  thee  close  once  more 
Ere  thou  dost  seek  the  distant  shore, 
And  rest  thee  on  thy  comrade's  breast, 
And  for  the  last  time  be  caressed; 
And  oh,  our  parting  must  be  o'er; 
Farewell,  farewell,  forever  more." 


62  ROSITA 


And  now  alone,  at  doad  of  niqfht, 
Rosita  stands  011  Loma's  height. 


From  El  Dorado's  misty  shores 
The' boatmen  dip  their  Hashing  oars, 
And  fling  aloft  their  snowy  sails 
To  catch  the  fleetness  of  the  gales; 
And  all  day  long  you  may  descry 
Their  distant  barks  against  the  sky, 
Like  mighty  sea-birds  drooped  to  rest 
On  ocean's  heaving,  glittering  breast; 
And  when  the  shades  of  evening  lower, 
And  softly  conies  the  twilight  hour, 
Full  many  a  bark's  white  wings  expand, 
And  many  a  mariner  seeks  the  land, 
"Where  eyes  so  bright,  grow  brighter  still, 
And  lightest  hearts  with  blessings  thrill, 
And  youthful  steps  so  lightly  roam 
To  greet  the  weary  wanderers  home; 
But  hearts  with  anguish  deep  must  burn 
"When  friends  depart  to  ne'er  return; 
When  hands  must  clasp,  and  lips  must  say 
The  wild  farewells  which  are  for  aye; 
No  more  to  meet,  oh,  must  it  be? 
Oar  answer  is  the  lapping  sea, 
The  ris'iig  anchor,  and  the  sail 
Now  swelling  gently  to  the  gale. 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE.  63 

At  last  the  dreaded  signal's  given, 

And  heart  from  IUM,\,  i.-,  iierctsly  riven; 

And  tho'  our  loved  unea  tov  arcl  us  lean 

The  seething  wacei-s  roll  Between, 

Still  widening  as  the  mourn  t'-d  erf 

Comes  o'er  tilts  wave,  "  Good  bye,  good  bye." 


The  morning  air  is  calm  and  still, 
And  Sol  looks  o'er  the  eastern  hill, 
As  once  again  from  Lonia's  crest 
Rosita  scans  the  ocean's  breast; 
No  lovely  mate  is  by  her  side 
To  watch  with  her  the  silvery  tide, 
Or  share  with  an  enjoyment  keen 
The  wondrous  beauty  of  the  scene, 
Where  mountains,  groves  and  vales  below 
Extend  to  meet  the  ocean's  flow. 
Tho'  nature  smiles  she  heeds  it  not: 
-Alone  and  sad  she  treads  the  spot, 
And  scans  with  eager  anxious  eyes 
The  distant'liiie  of  seas  and  skies, 
Where  one  lone  sail  upon  the  blue 
Is  speeding  swiftly  from  het1  view. 

*'At  last  thou'rt  safe  my  fair  Marie, 
And  thou,  Joa  juin,  art  also  free, 
And  but  for  me  were  happy  both; 
And  oh,  my  anguished  heart  is  loth 


64  ROSITA  : 

To  mar  such  happiness  as  thine 

With  thoughts  of  misery  deep  as  mine. 

But  soon  thy  bark  now  gliding  free 

Will  bring  forge tfulness  of  me; 

For  other's  griefs  but  lightly  move 

Fond  hearts  entwined  in  deepest  love, 

And  I  would  have  it  so  with  thee. 

Adieu,  adieu,  no  more  I  see 

The  tiny  sail  which  wafts  thee  well 

From  one  who  loves,  yet  cries  farewell." 

How  calm  she  seems  as  thus  she  speaks, 
No  tear-drop  glistens  on  her  cheeks, 
But  hard  set  teeth  and  gleaming  eyes 
Proclaim  that  human  miseries 
Were  never  deeper  than  her  own, 
Whose  only  echo  is  a  moan; 
As  now  she  turns,  she  knows  not  where, 
She  only  knows  the  dull  despair 
That  tugs  her  heart-strings;  oh  that  they 
Would  break  within  her  breast,  and  slay 
Her  in  an  instant,  for  'twere  bliss 
To  leave  this  world,  this  wilderness, 
The  last  and  only  boon  she  craves. 
At  this  she  marks  the  pine  that  waves 
Its  fragrant  branches  just  above 
The  lilac  clump  'neath  which  her  love 
In  death's  embrace  lies  cold  and  still 


A   CALIFORNIA     TALE.  65 


Within  the  bosom  of  the  hill; 
And  with  a  long  drawn  sobbing  cry 
She  seeks  and  gains  that  refuge  nigh, 
And  parting  quick  the  lilac  bloom 
Is  lost  to  sight  within  the  tornb. 


Full  thirty  years  have  passed  away, 

And  in  that  time  we  well  may  say 

No  eye  in  this  fair  land  hath  seen 

Marie,  Rosita  or  Joaquin. 

The  first  and  last  together  are, 

And  that  strange  fate  that  once  did  mar 

Their  struggles  brave  with  strife  and  tears, 

Now  blesses  their  declining  years 

With  peace  and  plenty,  in  a  land 

Par  south  of  California's  strand; 

But  oft  Marie,  with  bitter  tears 

Laments  the  friend  of  other  years; 

And  oft  Joaquin  a  sigh  bestows 

On  memories  sad,  for  neither  knows 

Rosita's  fate;  nor  can  they  learn 

One  word  of  her  for  whom  they  yearn. 

And  did  she  make  with  him  her  grave  ? 
And  does  she  sleep  within  the  cave, 
Now  hidden  far  from  mortal  sight 
By  time's  obliterating  flight? 


66  ROSITA  : 

Ah,  ask  me  not,  hut  list  a  tale 
"Which  i  .     ;tned  within  the  vale; 

As  fair  conclusion  to  my  strain, 
Oh  may  1  sing  it  not  in  vain. 


."Oh  Death,  thy  waters  as  they  roll^ 
Are  music  to  the  wearied  soul; 
There's  coiiKoiw,  111  thy  ceaseless  waves 
To  many  a  broken  heart  that  craves 
A  long,  oblivious,  sweet  repose 
From  life-long1  ills  and -cureless  woes; 
And  if  the  soiil  within  thy  deep 
Sinks  into  everlasting1  sleep, 
'Tis  better  fur  i'"r  life  again 
Would  only  be  returning  pain, 
Recurring  misery  and  regret; 
For  some  things  we  can  ne'er  forget, 
And  anguish  o'er  the  heart  will  steal 
For  wounds  there  are  that  never  heal." 

When  tides  of  immigration  rolled 

To  California's  shores  of  gold, 

And  thousands  dared  the  desert  plains 

To  lay  the  fever  in  their  veins, 

There  oft  appeared  the  crowds  among, 

A  handsome  stranger  fair  and  young, 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALE.  67 

Of  graceful  form  and  timid  air, 
And  azure  eyes  and  curling  hair; 
And  so  ambitious  did  he  seem 
That  soon  he  gained  the  warm  esteem 
Of  many  a  friend;  nor  long  did  spoil 
Eor  lack  of  profitable  toil, 
For  many  an  eye  beheld  how  well 
His  art  the  fiery  steed  could  quell, 
And  recognized  in  his  fair  hand 
A  touch  of  love  which  could  command 
Returning  love  from  e'en  a  brute; 
And  thus  he  gained  so  wide  repute 
That  soon  across  the^  golden  land 
'King  of  the  road'  with  six  in  hand, 
Our  stranger  sped  for  many  a  day, 
Braving  the  hardships  of  the  way 
Although  effeminate  he  seemed, 
The  loose  observer  little  dreamed 
Of  his  endurance,  pluck  and  will, 
Now  equaled  only  by  his  skill. 
Companions  all  he  seemed  to  shun, 
Tho'  doted  on  by  many  a  one; 
And  if  by  friends  allowed  a  choice, 
Would  never  raise  his  flute-like  voice 
In  conversation;  yes  or  no 
"Was  oft  the  most  he  would  bestow; 
And  who  he  was,  from  whence  he  came, 
His  kith  and  kin,  his  very  name, 


68  ROSITA   ; 

None  knew,  and  all  who  sought  to  gain 

That  information  sought  in  vain; 

As  Charley  was  our  stranger  known, 

Was  Charley  still  when  years  had  flown, 

And  this  was  all;  thus  o'er  him  hung 

Strange  mystery  for  one  so  young. 

Full  twenty  years  went  swiftly  past, 

And  he  of  fortune  had  amassed 

Enough  to  comfort  him  in  age, 

And  close  respectably  the  page 

Of  earthly  life.     His  name  was  heard 

Almost  as  'twere  a  household  word; 

His  generous  deeds  on  every  tongue; 

His  bravery  so  widely  sung; 

His  wild  escapes  from  robbers  bold; 

His  accidents  by  tourists  told; 

All  these  and  more  had  made  his  name 

A  by-word  on  the  lip  of  fame. 

But  weighed  by  years  of  hardship  now, 

His  slender  frame  began  to  bow; 

His  hair  with  gray  was  sprinkled  o'er; 

His  cheeks  were  round  and  pink  no  more; 

And  wrinkles  gathering  here  and  there 

Betrayed  tlrfc  ruthless  touch  of  care. 

He  felt  'twas  time  to  fly  from  toil, 

And  seek  contentment  from  the  spoil 

Of  twenty  years;  and  he  did  roam, 

And  found  at  last  a  pretty  home — 


A    CALIFORNIA    TALE.  69 

A  cottage  in  a  cozy  nook 

Upon  the  hills  which  overlook 

The  vale,  the  shore,  and  glittering*sea; 

And  there  from  agitation  free, 

He  lived  as  did  in  olden  tale, 

The  "Gentle  Hermit  of  the  Dale." 

Ten  peaceful  years  thus  rolled  around; 

No  longer  did  his  praise  resound; 

His  little  cot  was  seldom  sought; 

His  very  name  almost  forgot, 

Save  when  remembrance  haply  stirred 

Some  thoughtful  breast;  and  then  the  word 

Had  not  the  ring  of  former  years, 

So  fickle  friendship  oft  appears. 

Disease  had  fixed  on  him  her  fangs; 

And  yet,  tho'  pierced  with  sharpest  pangs, 

He  sought  no  comfort  from  the  crowd,  • 

But  in  submission  gently  bowed, 

For  hours  would  sit  within  his  door 

And  gaze  upon  the  scenes  before; 

Or  hear  the  distant  billows  roll, 

While  oft  the  glistening  tear-drops  stole 

Adown  his  cheek;  or  he  would  stray 

Within  his  garden's  fair  array, 

Where  bud  and  bloom  and  flow'ret  rare 

In  fragrant  beauty  blest  his  care. 

At  last,  'twas  in  the  month  of  May, 


70  EOSITA  : 

When  meadows  bloom,  and  lovers  stray; 
A  lonely  sportsman  strolling  near, 
Perchance  *in  need  of  rest  and  cheer, 
His  cottage  sought,  and  not  in  vain, 
For  easy  access  he  did  gain; 
And  there  upon  a  couch  reclined, 
With  wasting  frame  and  wandering  mind. 
Poor  Charley  met  his  startled  gaze; 
And  on  his  eye  the  deathly  glaze; 
And  on  his  brow  the  pallid  hue; 
And  on  his  lips  the  darkening  blue; 
And  in  his  faint  and  nattering  breath 
The  gasp  that  tells  of  coming  death, 
Bespoke  of  friendship  little  need; 
Yet  down  the  hills  at  swiftest  speed 
That  sportsman  flew  to  summon  aid, 
.  Nor  were  his  footsteps  lightly  stayed 

Till  with  that  aid  he  did  return, 
Too  late — the  flame  had  ceased  to  burn. 

And  now  behold,  from  far  and  near. 
Poor  Charley's  friends  at  once  appear; 
And  tho'  too  late  his  life  to  save 
They  yet  may  deck  him  for  the  grave; 
And  o'er  his  form  their  forms  are  bent: 
Why  start  they  with  astonishment  ? 
Why  are  their  looks  and  accents  flung 
From  eye  to  eye  and  tongue  to  tongue , 


A    CALIFORNIA     TALB.  71 

As  if  some  secret  glimmers  there 

Which  it  were  sacrilege  to  share  ? 

It  was  a  secret — now  no  more: 

A  woman  lies  their  eyes  before; 

A  woman,  who  with  bravest  heart 

Yet  frailest  form,  has  taken  part 

In  life's  vicissitudes  at  length, 

And  measured  e'en  with  man  her  strength, 

And  in  life's  struggle  has  prevailed 

"Where  man  has  oft  ignobly  failed. 

They  gently  closed  her  mournful  eyes, 
And  breathed  above,  their  heart-felt  sighs; 
And  watched  her  as  she  lay  at  rest 
With  white  hands  folded  on  hor  breast. 
No  look  of  pain  her  features  wore, 
And  death  seemed  partly  to  restore 
The  youthful  loveliness  which  care 
Had  marred  so  woefully.     Her  fair 
Unwrinkled  brow  seemed  brightly  crowned 
With  silvery  tresses  clustering  round; 
And  on  her  lips  a  smile  had  curled, 
Betok'ning  peace  with  all  the  world. 
They  searched,  and  yet  no  clue  did  gain, 
Save  round  her  neck  a  slender  chain; 
And  on  her  bosom  long  concealed 
A  tiny  locket  which  revealed 
Two  miniatures;  the  one,  a  fair 


72  EOSITA  : 

And  lovely  maid,  whose  auburn  hair 
In  ringlets  fell  around  a  face 
Wherein  the  gazer  well  might  trace 
Familiar  features — even  those 
So  lately  locked  in  death's  repose. 
The  other  well  portrayed  a  young 
And  handsome  man,  with  dark  hair  flung 
Back  from  a  forehead  broad  and  high; 
As  black  as  night  his  glittering  eye ; 
And  his  brown  face  was  free  from  beard, 
And  on  his  lips  a  smile  appeared; 
And  'round  his  neck  a  scarf  of  red. 
"Her  lover's  face"  the  matrons  said; 
But  old  wiseacre  being  there, 
Observed  the  miniature  with  care, 
And  said  the  countenance  he  knew, 
As  'twas  exposed  to  public  view 
In  a  museum  day  by  day; 
Nor  would  he  hesitate  to  say, 
If  e'er  the  robber  he  had  seen 
This  was  the  portrait  of  Joaquin. 
But  his  assertions  went  for  naught, 
For  careful  hands  the  secret  sought, 
And  when  the  paintings  from  their  places 
Were  well  removed,  within  the  cases 
In  tracings  elegant  were  shown 
The  names 

ROSITA  AND  EAMON. 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  ot  any 
RET  University  ot  California  Library 

TO  i  or  to  the 

LO/       NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
H(       Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 

-  —      University  ot  California 

Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

~~AI  ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

Re  •    2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
BC  (510)642-6753 

-  •    1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 

books  to  NRLF 

•    Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


JUN  1  1 199 


SENT  ON  ILL 


DEC  2  0  2000 


U.C.BERKELEY 


L 


12,000(11/95) 


U.  C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


